The Chaos Theory
by Chauncey Chu
Summary: //Her tears fell on the crimson glass, wishing she could hear his voice one last time// Amidst the chaos, an orphaned one year old child is left alone. A journey of love, lies, self-discovery and life. This is a whole novel in the making. :D
1. Prelude

**Update**:

First of all, everything written here came from me or maybe from some people I know (e.g. friends, family, relatives, et hoc genus omne) but everything belongs to God. I wonder if I can actually call it a fanfic. Anyway, this is the first serious story I've written so I hope you enjoy it.

If you have any clarifications, comments, suggestions, positive or negative, just leave me a message through the 'review' option found on the bottom part of this page. Please, leave a sentence or two. You don't have to be a member of this site to send a review. Reviews are any writers food so without it, we'll die....or something.

I would also request you, as a reader, your opinion if I should continue writing this story. I don't wanna waste my time on a pointless project.

I don't feel that its good enough. It may even suck. =.=

If I get enough feedback, I'll continue writing.

Without further ado, here's my story.

The Chaos Theory.

* * *

Prelude

Xenogenesis

You can never plan the future by the past.

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A raven-haired man stands from his seat, dressed in chaotic black.

"Commence mission."

"Location?"

"England, coordinates 34X 119Y."

The raven-haired man walks down from the plane, surrounded by a multitude of heavily armed elite tactical units opposing his very arrival. Bullets rain from the sky, striking down every single soldier.

He smirks.

"Let the bloodfest begin."

With an obsidian dagger, he bursts through the flood of mercenaries and guards which are after him. He disposes them with ravenous speed and power, slicing limbs and ripping out vital organs.

He approaches the exit of the airport and glances over his shoulder with a slight turn of his head.

Total obliteration.

Lifeless human carcasses everywhere, blood splatted on the walls like graffiti.

"Terminal destroyed."

"Proceed to the next destination."

A crowded Carlisle street, filled with people, undergoes utter havoc as a bus suddenly explodes out of nowhere, starting a chain of outbursts and fires.

A black combat plane bursts through a batch of clouds, firing missiles on England.

"Permission to leave no survivors?"

"Permission granted."

The raven-haired man proceeds to the street along with a group of assassins, entertaining himself with the satisfaction of bloodshed.

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Screams of horror echo along the sewers, the shadows of people running and getting killed reflect on the murky water, where light managed to be casted.

Two males, an adult and a one year old child, make their way through the murky water pestering with rodents. They have managed to escape the tribulation just above them. The adult carries the baby with his right arm, protecting it with his own life.

Taking a corner, they are blocked by a horde of assassins.

The adult takes out a gun as he runs towards the opposite direction, still facing the enemies.

One assassin, equipped with circular blades in both hands, lunges at the man.

He evades the blow and grabs the offender by the neck, shooting it at point blank range.

The assassins cease, seemingly intimidated by how their comrade was brutally killed.

"One down, five....thirteen....nineteen to go," the man says mockingly.

Exercising his years of training, the man quickly reloads his gun and gets ready to shoot. He cautiously holds the child in his right arm, careful not to let it get harmed.

Another one rushes towards him. Gunshot. Dead.

"The name's Maximillian, don't you forget it," he tells the mercenaries.

After a battlecry, another one runs towards him in rage. This one looked different from the others, probably having a higher rank. It screams constantly as it makes its way towards him.

Maximillian stares blankly at the assassin.

Boom.

Maximillian raises his gun and fires.

The assassin falls just in front of his feet.

"Headshot."

Seeing their comrade get laughed at, the remaining assassins go ballistic and unleash consecutive chained attacks. Maximillian guards the baby, taking several blows to the arms and legs.

"Crap," he curses, patting his various pockets for more ammunition.

Five bullets left. Seventeen enemies left.

"_Wow, how indirectly proportional_," he thought.

Huffing out a deep sigh, he unveils a circular object from his back pocket.

The assassins stare at shock.

Some even start running away, retreating from impending death.

Maximillian smiles at them, juggling the circular object with one hand.

A bomb.

He throws it as hard as he can at the assassins' direction. "Catch!"

One assassin was stupid enough to catch it.

"Look, I caught it!" he exclaimed gleefully.

The one beside him slapped him in the side of head. "Idiot!"

When they shifted their focus back on Maximillian, they saw that he was already running away.

The assassins look at the bomb, stupefied.

"Holy crap."

A large explosion coming from the sewer rips a street open, destroying everything that surrounds it, including the scatterbrained assassins.

The raven-haired man looks at the sky, hearing a loud burst. "What was that?"

"An explosion. Contact to group A has been lost."

The raven-haired man proceeds to the entrance of the Chaltier company building. Hordes of assassins run past him, taking out every single guard which protected the company members.

The doors leading to the main conference hall is ripped in half.

People of the company dive away as machine gun fire tears up the floor where they were standing.

The raven-haired man mercilessly exterminates the President and Vice President of the company as his henchmen searched the whole building from top to bottom.

Clouds of smoke rise as the building was set ablaze.

The raven-haired man kicks a cold body as he exited the buildings premises.

He glances at the man dressed in chaotic black beside him.

"Mission complete?" he asks.

"Not quite," the man responds.

The two men proceed to the dark helicopter that was waiting for them. It soared towards the infinite sky, ripping the ceiling into pieces.

"The documents?"

"Can't find them."

"Tch."

"They've hidden it somewhere."

Europe's whole military force start to raid Carlisle, England.

The lieutenant general steps down from an armored tank.

War planes soar through the sky, scanning for the intruders.

"Target sighted," a soldier announced.

The raven-haired man and the man in black's helicopter had been spotted.

"Blast away!" the lieutenant general ordered.

In unison, the military squadrons fired away whatever they had: missilies, bombs, rifles, rockets, et hoc genus omne. The helicopter crashes down onto a building. Infantrymen search the landing area with haste but end up with no findings.

"Target lost, sir."

No corpses were found, not even trails or clues to where the two men had gone off.

Due to the circumstances, the authorities of England declared a national state of emergency.

Meanwhile, at an orphanage several blocks from the Chaltier mansion.

Maximillian quickly stepped up the front stairs to the large Victorian house.

With a melancholy yet relieved sigh, he placed the child in front of the door.

He knocked swiftly and left, not to be seen by the foster home owner.

A few seconds later, the door opened.

Upon seeing the baby, the foster home owner picked him up in her arms.

The baby was wrapped in a thick layer of cashmere cloth, a really expensive fabric. On the cloth was engraved "Leonhart".

Maximillian walks along the street, bearing scars and wounds.

A car passes and blocks anyone's sight of him.

The car goes, supposedly making him visible.

But he was gone, never to be seen again.

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	2. A Reluctant Heart

Act 1

A Reluctant Heart

The thousand mile journey of love starts with one step.

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Several years later...

The boy opened the door carefully, shutting it behind him, trying not to make any noise.

"Do you even know what time it is?" Mrs. Carlyle asked upon seeing her son sneak in the house.

The young man quickly glanced at the clock. It was eleven minutes past one o'clock in the morning.

He was a tad too busy to have noticed the time. Experiencing an agonizing pain from a headache which was caused by several hours of constant reading, he took off his fur coat and barreled past his mother, not wanting no confront her any further.

"You've been coming late for the past few weeks," she said, concern evident in her voice.

"Research," the boy bluntly replied, throwing the jacket on the couch.

"About?" Mrs. Carlyle gave him a question.

He scowled at her. "It's none of your business."

The mother sighed, seemingly having no authority over him. "I'm just worried, Leon." Approaching him from behind, she placed her hand on his shoulder. The boy quickly flicked her hand away from him. He looked at her with a hint of disgust and said, "Leave me alone."

"I just want to make sure that-"

"Leave me alone!" Leon barked at her, giving her a glare that could kill.

"What's the noise all about?!" Came a fatherly voice from behind them.

Leon shifted his focus to his father, who had just entered the scene. He was in his sleepwear, a sign that he obviously had just came from bed. His voice was rather loud due to the irritation his son has caused him.

"Haven't I told you-" Mr. Carlyle was able to say before he was cut off.

"Yes, you have." Leon interrupted.

"Have you-"

"No, I don't."

Leon kept stopping him from finishing his statements. Mr. Carlyle was quickly losing his temper.

"What were you doing? Considering that it's already past midnight..."

"What do you care?!"

"How dare-"

"SILENCE!"

A straight forcibly hit Leon on the cheek, forcing him to take a step backwards. Mr. Carlyle's anger led him to using violence against his son.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Carlyle scolded her husband for hitting their child.

Giving Leon one last look, Mr. Carlyle left the living room. Mrs. Carlyle, on the other hand, aided her son. She took a small piece of cloth and placed it on Leon's nose to cease the bleeding.

"You shouldn't have answered back."

Leon stood up and headed to his room, slamming the door shut. All his mother could do was sigh in depression. The next day, the father and son met in the dining room during breakfast. There was a fiery tension between the two, which Mrs. Carlyle easily noticed.

"You should apologize." Mrs. Carlyle told her son.

"Never. Especially to that lowly human." Leon muttered between spoonfuls.

Mr. Carlyle went berserk at his son's discourteous remarks. Being seated in front of Leon, he was almost able to hit him again. Fortunately, Mrs. Carlyle interrupted him in the nick of time.

"Arthur, stop it!" she exclaimed, grabbing her husband by his arms.

Furious, Mr. Carlyle stood up and forcefully placed his glass down, almost shattering the innocent kitchenware to bits. He left the dining room in a frenzy, almost breaking the door as he slammed it shut.

Mrs. Carlyle placed her palm on her forehead before running after her husband.

A few minutes later, Leon headed to his room after he was done with his share of Cumberland ham. On the way there, he stumbled upon his parents, who were carrying fairly large luggages.

Mrs. Carlyle approached him and ruffled his hair affectionately.

"We have to go to Australia for a business trip. It's urgent so we have to leave as soon as possible."

Leon nodded in response.

"Besides, I think it would be better if you don't see your father for a while," she added.

Mrs. Carlyle kissed him on the cheek before finally leaving the house. The blatant sound of a car's engine signaled Leon that they were already leaving.

"Hey, where are they going?" a high pitched voice startled him.

Leon spun around and saw a girl, at least two years younger than walked down the staircase and headed towards him.

The young female's brown shaded, gold locks were pinned up neatly. She had flawless, delicate skin with a fairly light, pinkish complexion. She only had a plain white shirt and dark shaded denim shorts on, which barely covered her legs. The small shirt revealed her collar bones and a small fraction of her waist.

Leon subconsciously scrutinized her petite yet slender figure.

"Australia," he replied bluntly as he tore his eyes off her.

"Huh? Why?" she asked out of curiosity.

"Business trip," Leon answered her plainly.

"Oh..." the girl mumbled, not showing any amusement whatsoever.

A lady in her mid-twenties entered the scene, courteously bowing before them.

"Good morning, mistress," the family butler greeted her.

"What's up, Beatrice?" she replied informally.

"Breakfast is ready, Lady Krizelle," Beatrice informed her, gesturing towards the dining room.

With Beatrice accompanying her, Krizelle proceeded to the dining room. On the other hand, Leon moved towards the living room and sat on the couch. Sitting beside the fireplace, Leon enjoyed the warmth that it offered. He marveled at its excellent masonry, staring at the fire as the wood under it slowly decomposed. Tints of red and orange reflected off his dark, stormy orbs.

Krizelle later joined him at the living room. She sat beside him, a bit too close for Leon's taste.

Eventually, she noticed that he had bloodshot eyes.

"Gawd, are you high on drugs again?" she humorously stated.

"Again?" Leon looked at her, an eyebrow raised a fraction of a degree.

Krizelle took a wild tendril and played with it. "Or maybe, you're drunk," she jested.

Leon chose to ignore her. Moving towards the opposite side of the couch, Leon grabbed a crimson covered book from an adjoining table. He opened it, reading from a random page.

Krizelle stood up and darted towards him, so fast that he barely noticed it.

"You got in a fight with dad, didn't you?" Krizelle questioned, rubbing the bruise on his cheek.

Leon quickly took Krizelle's hand away from his face.

She chuckled as she glimpsed Leon blush a shade darker from physical contact.

"Aww, how bashful," she teased him, once again stroking his cheek.

"Stop it," Leon ordered in his low, monotonous voice.

Krizelle obediently obliged and stopped playing with him.

"Hey, wanna go out? Mom and dad aren't here anyway," Krizelle suggested.

"Not interested," he stated dryly.

"Oh c'mon." She muttered, pulling his arm.

Leon paused for a moment and looked outside the window from the corner of his eye.

"Sure, why not?" he brightly replied.

"Really?" She couldn't believe what she just heard. Krizelle ran to the door in excitement, oblivious that she was still in her sleepwear. She turned the door knob to open the door.

BLAM.

Tons of snow crashed and piled over her, forming a big lump on the doorway. The lump of ice, which Krizelle was struggling to come out of, formed a snow whale, if such a thing existed.

"Still want to go?" Leon asked her quite mockingly.

"Never mind."

"Besides, there's a possibility that their flight will be canceled due to the weather."

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That night, Leon watched the news to check on delayed and canceled flights. Their parents haven't called them after they had left, causing the two siblings to be shrouded in worry.

"So, found anything yet?" Krizelle asked Leon upon entering the living room.

She sat beside him, their arms and legs making contact.

Leon crossed his arms. "Nothing so far," he replied, anxiously wriggling away from her.

Krizelle noticed it and grinned impishly. She wriggled closer to him, intertwining her arm with his. Leon looked at her, surprised of her impudent actions.

"It's kinda cold," she told him simply.

As if they were a couple, Krizelle rested her head on Leon's shoulder. To her satisfaction, Leon was starting to feel uncomfortable, stiffening under her grasp.

"I would appreciate it if you'd maintain a distance," Leon said.

"Yeah, whatever," Krizelle responded.

As the news reports concluded to an end, Leon turned the television off.

"There are no reports about it," he informed her.

"I just hope they're okay," Krizelle said, still holding onto Leon.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine."

Leon placed the remote control on the table before heading to his room.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Krizelle asked him.

Leon walked towards the staircase. "Sleep," he replied, his hand already on the handrail.

Krizelle immediately objected. "It's too early."

"Two in the morning? You have to be kidding me."

"..." came her 'reply'.

"Go to sleep, Krizelle."

"That's a major problem."

"It is not."

Letting out a yawn, Leon ignored her statement and went to sleep.

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Leon was already sleeping soundly in his room before he was woken up by a brief disturbance. Someone had slapped him in the face with a pillow. He glared at her for waking him up, a scowl on his face.

"What is it?" Leon's pierced hers, beseeching an answer.

"U-uh...I...." Krizelle muttered, twiddling her thumbs.

His frown grew more pronounced as he processed her unintelligible words. "What?!"

"I-I can't sleep..." Krizelle told him rather sheepishly.

"You're afraid of the dark?" Leon assumed, softening his glare.

"No! O-of course not!" she quickly said defensively, her voice having a mix of anger and self-pity.

"Really?" Leon said before becoming completely silent under his sheets.

The room seemed empty and dark, scaring Krizelle even more.

"Fine! I'm scared of the dark! Are you happy now?" Krizelle blurted out shamefacedly.

Leon smirked.

Having no other choice, Leon was forced to tuck Krizelle in bed and sleep beside her. Beatrice usually did this but she had left the mansion earlier due to unavoidable circumstances, promising the two siblings that she'd be back the day after.

Leon and Krizelle later found themselves lying on the same bed back to back, each facing towards the opposite direction in accordance to the other.

Though Leon felt somewhat uncomfortable with it, it was the only thing he could do.

Krizelle would end up awake for the rest of the night if he refused to do so.

"Hey...are you still awake?" Krizelle asked, elbowing Leon in the back.

"What is it?" he asked in his low, monotonous voice.

"I still can't sleep..." She ratified, wriggling closer to him.

"Just close your eyes," Leon declared.

She tried to do as he had told her but it didn't work.

"It would be easier if I had a stuffed doll," Krizelle stated.

"...?"

She shook her head in disappointment. "Don't you have one?"

"..."

"A soft, squishy, nice to hug stuffed toy."

"Those are for children only," he insulted.

Krizelle elbowed him harder, causing him to swallow his words.

"I'll go get your pillow," Leon suggested, standing up.

"W-wait, don't leave me alone!" she protested, hastily grabbing his hand.

"I'll turn the lights on, don't worry." His words comforted her somehow.

"B-but..."

"...?"

She forced him back to the bed with a single pull, Leon's back facing her.

"I still get scared being alone..." Krizelle admitted.

"Then, what do you want me to-"

Suddenly, Krizelle hugged him. Leon was astonished to feel Krizelle's arms wrap around him. It was quite bold of her to have done such a deed. Krizelle embraced him tightly with her right hand across his chest. She rested her face on his back and snuggled on him, enjoying his warmth.

The coldness and fear vanished and were replaced by comfort and an unexplainable feeling. She felt her whole body heat up and her face flush, a warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest.

He made her nightmares turn into sweet, happy dreams.

"Good night, Leon," Krizelle whispered in Leon's ear, slowly falling asleep.

He took a deep breath as he felt Krizelle's grip grow tighter.

Leon stiffened under her grasp but he eventually found a way to relax.

"Good night, Krizelle," Leon softly whispered.

Leon's eyelids soon shut, drawing him into an abysmal slumber.

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End file.
